Chapter Text
The choice between LA and Las Vegas wasn’t one. G forces compressed Armsmaster’s spine as he launched into the air and arced west, the hard light shields turning him into a flash of golden light. With any luck he’d trick some UFO obsessives, the world could do with a bit more strangeness that wasn’t terrible.
The levity passed quickly as he approached the California border. Loki was a master, and SHIELD didn’t seem like an organization geared to fight one. Secrets and compartmentalization were perfectly fitting in some circumstances, but if a group didn’t account for mind control when the protocols were set up they could be devastating. In the early days of the PRT there’d been numerous cases of Parahumans worming their way into positions of authority, and he’d heard rumors that numerous CIA and NSA black ops programs had simply vanished in the eighties. If Loki was smart and moved quickly he could carve resources free from SHIELD and others before they even knew there was a problem.
That at least made his next step clear, he’d have to check for the characteristic radiation at SHIELD affiliated locations. Under normal circumstances he doubted that they’d cooperate, but crisis had a way of cutting red tape.
“Stark.” His armor put the call through and it rang twice.
“Colin, what’s up?” The tinker’s voice was distracted and he could hear keys being pressed in the background. “Did you make third contact or whatever?”
“Loki’s in the wind, I’m following a lead to Los Angeles.”
“How’s the radiation tracking?”
“As expected it falls off pretty rapidly with distance, and the cube itself seems to have a variable intensity.”
“The trail went cold then.”
“He has to be headed for a city though, there’s nothing else out here.”
“True. Jarvis try to source some larger vacuum chambers that we can pick up immediately.” More sensitive Geiger counters would only get them so far, but before Armsmaster could comment Tony was talking again. “You wouldn’t call if you didn’t think it would be useful. What are you looking for?”
“So far Loki has acquired all his resources from SHIELD. It seems reasonable to assume he’ll continue.”
“So you want to know where SHIELD is there, got it. I’ll send you what I have and get Coulson to get in touch.”
The line went dead just as an email arrived. Opening it showed a list of addresses and images of the SHIELD’s buildings, Jarvis must have put the package together. The AI was just so useful, he really needed to actually make his own, but he kept getting distracted by other projects. Dragon’s ideas were such fun, and it was always a pleasure to work with her that he hadn’t really minded. Next time though.
He discarded the first few items on the list, the main branch in the city was too obvious a target, and as he slowed down and descended he eliminated a few others. Loki needed people, his ultimate goal was unclear but he hadn’t just teleported out of the base with the tesseract. That said, SHIELD was international, it had bases everywhere NATO had once spread and other places besides. Escaping the scene of the crime would mean that the world would have to be searched, not just the southwest. With that in mind the first place to look was obvious.
His phone rang just as he adjusted his course and he started an evasive pattern as he answered. Cell phones were targeting aides for anyone who bothered to think about it, and just because Coulson had been trustworthy two hours ago didn’t mean he was still safe.
“Agent Coulson.”
“Armsmaster. Mr. Stark said you had something for me.” The man’s voice was as level as ever, the sort of anodyne manner Le Carre liked in his protagonists.
“I have to confirm it, but I’m checking out March Air Force Base.” He’d passed over it and had detected elevated radiation levels, but he’d need to be closer to be sure.
“They called in and checked out.” The objection was pro forma, the agent clearly realized that their doctrine was inadequate in the face of mind control. “How long will it take you to get there?”
“Less than a minute.” Most of the time would be spent decelerating, orbiting San Bernardino left him within ten miles and he’d rather not make a sonic boom in case he was mistaken.
“We’ll have a team choppered in to meet you there in five. They’ll call this number.”
The delay was astonishingly short, but Coulson wasn’t used to dealing with flyers. “Give me their transponder and I’ll meet them in the air.”
“Right.” Armsmaster set his own, he was tempted to put 4400, but went with a slightly more discreet 4003. “They’re 1277, expect their call.”
They were flying from closer to downtown, and moving fast. It looked something like a Blackhawk, the last major helicopter class the US military had ordered on Bet before shifting to a more artisan procurement strategy, but he had a hard time getting a lock on it. Its thermal signature was muddled, and as he got closer the blades weren’t as loud as he expected. He took up a position above and behind them, waiting for them to contact him.
He didn’t waste the time, running diagnostics on his systems. Everything should be fine, but a few hours of supersonic flight and general activity could cause problems with the more delicate functions. Luckily nothing came back as a problem, even the newer stuff. He changed his HUD from normal to combat mode, it had been strange to program one that didn’t default to battle ready, and went back to waiting. This time when he received a call it was only an alert, and a low priority one compared to the potential events he’d care about while fighting.
“This is Armsmaster.” He didn’t know what to expect from the SHIELD agents, if they’d be more unflappable Coulson clones, something more like PRT agents, or even soldiers. Until he found out professionalism was the best choice.
“Roger that, this is Blue Lead. We’re tasked with assisting you in checking buildings thirty three, thirty four and hanger nine.” Armsmaster dropped to fly at the side of the helicopter, inside it he could see men in tactical gear cradling weapons. Better than bureaucrats.
“I’m going ahead to circle the site at a distance of one klick, to look for more evidence of Loki. Once you reach that distance I’ll go loud to attract any attention from potential hostiles to cover your landing.”
“Affirmative.” He barely waited for the response before racing forward, leaving the helicopter behind him like it was standing still. G forces pressed him as he turned, five times his weight lying on his chest. It wasn’t his record, but that was one Armsmaster had no interest in matching before potentially getting into a firefight.
The spike in gamma radiation made the potential an actuality.
“Blue Lead, the target was here. I’m going in.” He turned his smooth curve into a helix, this time the acceleration was enough to make his vision go fuzzy at the edges before he bled off his speed with a roar of repulsors and a parachute shaped hard light shield. He hit the ground at a run, and the door a second later with his shoulder at a sprint.
The heavy metal smashed into the wall, temporarily drowning out the sudden alarms. He held his hand to his side, and with a flash of blue and a wash of radiation his halberd materialized in his grip. His first adversary came into view, a pistol in his hands to emphasize his shouts to stand down. He ignored them.
“Where’s Loki?” His voice was harsh, and it boomed through the external speakers. He didn’t get a verbal answer.
The first shot pinged off his helmet, for the second he yielded to theatricality and deflected it with his blade. Blocking a bullet after it had been fired would take incredible speed, being in position ahead of time just took planning and simple software. He advanced, his servos twitching his relaxed arm as it solved the math problem of intercepting a single vector. The man ran out of bullets and flung the gun as he charged. One slash left the gun a glowing ruin before he grabbed the man by the collar of his vest and slammed him into the drywall.
Up close he could see that the man’s eyes were an electric blue, the same shade as the tesseract and Loki’s staff. He wouldn’t get anything out of this one, but a visible symptom of the mastering was potentially incredibly useful. The sonic taser dropped the agent to the ground and kept him there as Armsmaster advanced further into the base.
“Blue Lead this is Armsmaster, I’ve encountered opposition. Small arms only so far.” With his ranged EKG he could see others through the walls, they were moving into ambush positions. Unless they had heavy weapons he’d be fine.
“We’re three zero seconds out.”
“I’ll ensure they’re looking at me.” The electrolaser wasn’t an indoor weapon. Lightning was an incredibly energetic phenomenon, and thunder could cause severe damage to unshielded equipment and personnel at close range.
It did work well as a distraction. The wall he’d targeted disintegrated, and he smashed through it just after. Even deafened and blinded the agents were trying to fight, one sprayed half a magazine at him but only managed to hit one of his allies before the room was blanketed in containment foam. It was inefficient, he could have cleared the room without expending munitions, but the brainwashed soldiers weren’t rational enough to care about the others’ safety.
There was nothing he could do for them now though, and he could see more gathering on the floors above him. A repulsor burst cleared the obstruction and he lightly jumped through the hole he’d made. It didn’t go unnoticed, the agents on the upper floors were converging on him. The first to arrive was a man in business casual, with his gut hanging over his belt.
Armsmaster just tripped him with the haft of his halberd before firing off the sonic taser. Hopefully his heart wasn’t too weak, but it was the mildest weapon he possessed.
The next was more usual, a woman in a bullet proof vest cradling a gigantic rifle. He didn’t feel bad about hitting her with the electrolaser. The resultant brilliant Lichtenberg figure tracing across her prone body would eventually fade he rationalized as he stepped over her and into the hallway.
A hail of bullets met him, and like hail bounced off. He paced deliberately towards the agents as they fired and frantically reloaded, the more ammunition shot at him the less that could be aimed at Blue team. They didn’t run as he advanced, the mastered agents didn’t feel fear or pain as his blows broke bones.
Loki’s will could only take them so far, by the time Blue team entered the building he was surrounded by disabled enemies. Conveniently the pain or trauma had broken the master effect on at least one of them, the man’s eyes had gone from the startling blue back to more mortal shades. It could be a trick though, and as none of them were in immediate danger he stood ready for further violence.
Below him he could see his backup coming into the building, a tight knot of men carefully checking the doors and corners. “I’m on the second floor, there are no active hostiles with heartbeats.”
“Roget that.” It took a second for Armsmaster to realize how he’d sounded, naturally the agents wouldn’t think that hostiles without heartbeats could be an issue. They probably assumed he’d killed them all. They’d discover otherwise soon enough.
After what felt like an interminable wait he got his first look at blue team at eye level. Considering that they didn’t look as shaken as men expecting a psychopath should he guessed they’d figured out he hadn’t carved his way through the base.
“Loki’s victims can be distinguished by bright blue eyes.” He picked one up, taking care not to jostle his broken leg. One of the agents sensibly took a picture. “They haven’t been forthcoming, but I haven’t asked questions yet.”
“Please, I’ll talk!” It was the man he’d nearly knocked out, his head was covered in blood. Armsmaster felt a little guilty over that, he’d assumed that the agent would fight in something approaching a normal matter and had accidently clipped his skull when he’d been forced to shield the man from another agent’s hidden handgun. The man in Armsmaster’s grasp twitched and the others on the ground tried to attack the speaker, but it was simple enough to change which agent he was carrying and remove him from the others.
“Agent Robbins.” Blue Leader seemed to recognize the man. “What’s your authentication code?” Armsmaster was tempted to interrupt, clearly Loki’s orders ensured that his minions were able to avoid suspicion, but from the tone he could tell Blue Leader was trying to establish a rapport, or at least some sense of normality.
“Six three nine nine two eight.” Robbins had a desperate air as he said it, and Armsmaster set him down on unsteady legs.
“What happened here agent?”
“I don’t know! We got orders to prep the quinjets, and then this green guy with a spear was jabbing us all in the chest and told us to keep quiet.” He took a deep and gasping breath, on the edge of shock if Armsmaster was any judge. “And we did! We did, and I don’t know why!”
“We need to know where he went Agent Robbins.” Blue Leader had his hands on the man’s shoulders and was staring into his eyes, as if he could stave off a panic attack by grip strength. “What can you tell us?”
Oddly enough it worked, Robbins swallowed nervously twice before answering with a shaky voice. “They went east after taking off, that’s all I know.”
“Unfortunate.” It was sensible of the supervillain, but certainly inconvenient. “Interrogate the others, this one is the only one I hit in the head, perhaps cranial trauma disrupted Loki’s control.” The whole world was east of Los Angeles and the quinjets were stealthy. He’d probably flown right over them on his way here, but it still made sense to chase them. “Inform me if there are other pertinent developments.”
The mastered agents had opened the windows to create firing positions, and Armsmaster stepped onto the sill before turning back to look at Blue team. “One of the men downstairs in the foam has a gunshot wound. It should have ensured he didn’t lose too much blood.” He stepped into empty air as his repulsors fired, the sky beckoned.